


All Dolled Up

by leonheart2012



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dissociation?, Dollification, Gentle Sex, I dunno what you'd call it, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Like super duper angsty, M/M, Seriously I have no idea where I pulled this from, Slow Sex, angsty, but it's one line, doll kink, subspace?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:54:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22068100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leonheart2012/pseuds/leonheart2012
Summary: Kentarou sits on a chair, in front of a mirror, made-up and ready, his head lolling to one side. He waits for Shigeru to get home, his mind swirling mostly empty. The waves of his breath ebb in and out. Memories that resurface get pushed away with the tide. In and out. Endless waves; in and out. And then Shigeru comes home.
Relationships: Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru
Kudos: 52





	All Dolled Up

The glassy eyes might be a bit much, Kentarou thinks as he stares at his reflection, but perhaps that’s the way Shigeru wants it. His eyes feel dry, but he doesn’t want to blink them. After all, he’s a doll. Just for now.

He forgets what exactly started it, at least at the moment. A fuzzy recollection of Shigeru finding him lying in his bed with his eyes open, staring at the ceiling and disassociating flits through his mind, but he shushes it gently into silence. The point of this is to forget. Forget everything. And make Shigeru feel good.

He doesn’t have to wait too long for the last part of that to come true; the door opens and Shigeru slumps inside. He sighs and calls out into the house. “Ken? You here?”

Kentarou doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to, and besides, he’s just a lifeless doll. He’s painted his lips a light creamy colour, just the way Shigeru likes. He’s relaxed his muscles so he sits on the chair as if draped, his head lolling to the side slightly as he keeps his lips narrowly parted, his chest rising and falling softly, almost imperceptibly.

Shigeru comes through the door and sees him all dolled up, his cheeks flushed with artificial colour. He closes the door and comes over, stroking a finger down his cheek. “Hey. You sat so pretty for me all through work, didn’t you? Such a good doll.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to his pigmented lips.

Although he isn’t light, Shigeru has gotten to the point where he can pick Kentarou up and move him as he likes. Kentarou tries not to get aroused thinking about that. He keeps his mind blank, chasing away the stray thoughts with a calming wave. The motion sparks a memory of the shore. He remembers the birds running from the water as it sloshes up the rocks, swirling in the air above the vast blue horizon, diving down. There’s a warm hand on his back, stroking as though he’s a dog, a female voice he knows but chooses not to remember. He slowly blinks and exhales it away.

Shigeru is arranging him on their bed. When they’d first started living together, they had been in separate rooms, but that didn’t last long after the first time. Shigeru would, night after night, slip into his bed and smooth his hands down his chest, running down to his cock, stroking over it and getting it hard before riding it or opening Kentarou on his fingers, fucking him. He had given up the pretence that he didn’t like Shigeru. Shigeru had given up the pretence that he didn’t care what this was.

The kisses are soft. They’re always so, so soft. Kentarou has told Shigeru countless times that he doesn’t mind if he gets a little rough with him. Shigeru tells him he won’t ever hurt him like his family did. Somehow, it makes Kentarou feel worse, but he never says that to Shigeru. Besides, he’s a doll and dolls don't mind what happens to them.

His hips are lifted off the bed, a pillow shoved under them, then a towel. Cold lube makes him bite the inside of his lip. Shigeru always pushes him like this when he’s feeling playful. He manages to remain still and soundless. Fingers probe at his entrance, slowly sliding inside. Kentarou forces himself to just keep breathing.

While in a playful mood, Shigeru loves to draw things out. He does everything as if he’s been put into slow motion, thrusting his fingers in and out in a steady, gentle rhythm, just on the wrong side of enough. Like dripping honey, he slides in, and in, and in, all the way to his palm, then pulls out, and out, and out, until just the tip of his middle finger teases his rim.

Minutes later, a third finger teases. It presses in just a few centimetres, stretching him ever so gently. And then it pulls back. Shigeru knows he can take it, no problem, but he chooses to tease instead. Kentarou knows that if he wants it to end, he can ‘wake up’ at any time, but he isn’t ready for that yet. He’s still soft as Shigeru fingers him. It’s almost too easy to keep himself in such a state, especially with how slowly Shigeru’s moving.

Finally, he’s got three fingers inside him, still moving torturously slowly. But it isn’t about how quickly they get there. It’s about the experience of having Shigeru’s hands on him, stroking and caressing. It’s about the silence of his mind, no longer hurtling through the memories of his family and what they did. It’s about the gentle pace of the ebb and flow of breath whooshing in and out of his body.

Shigeru presses kisses to his thighs, stomach and hips as he reaches the final finger, not teasing with his pinky as he had with the other fingers. It’s only small, so it takes almost no effort to introduce the digit, his hand curling as he moves it in and out.

The waves roll steadily against the shore, breaking down the rocks into sand. Even so, the beach is coarse, the water too cold to dip into. It’s getting black, the sun having sunk. The warm hand on his back is gone, his mother passed out in the back seat of the car. There’s a gentle grunting as his father takes her, having awaited the chance, unwilling to squander it. He blinks out at the ocean. It smells wonderful, like salt and wind and, far off in the distance, rain, a burning ozone scent that fills Kentarou with anxiety.

A breath, and the memory fades. Shigeru has finished preparing him, has finished putting on his condom. He slicks himself with one hand, lazily thumbing at Kentarou’s puffy rim with the other.

“I love you.” He says softly, mounting him, pressing steadily inside. His lips graze Kentarou’s cheek, still coloured red with blush. His teeth scrape against the hollow of his neck, the planes of his exposed collar. His tongue caresses the red marks, soothing and warm. His breath puffs against his ear.

Kentarou feels himself getting hard, the stimulation too much even for his calm mind. His breathing hitches in his chest. Pleasure threatens to drag him out of his trance. He doesn’t want to go, but it’s too powerful.

His arms wrap around Shigeru’s waist, and he stills inside him. Warm, wet lines cut through his make up, and Shigeru kisses his lips again.

“Are you alright?” His voice is gentle, just like those waves, but even their steady ebb and flow crushes the rocks to sand eventually.

“Hmm. Stay with me?” He answers, not ready, even after all this time, to allow the waves to crack him open.

“Of course.” Shigeru kisses him again, and the waves slosh against the shore again. They’ll get through, eventually, but not today. Kentarou still has his rocky prison. For now.


End file.
